A Second Chance
by Mudblood Queen
Summary: ABANDONED. MAY COME BACK TO LIFE SOME DAY. PROBABLY NOT. DON'T GET YOUR HOPES UP.
1. The Beginning

It was over. It was_ all_ over. Voldemort had won and the only surviving remnant to show that there had even been a resistance in the first place was one Gryffindor mudblood, limping down the corridor of the seventh floor, too proud to just give up and lie down.

_No. _No, she would NOT lie down. Not after what she had seen. She would not let the dark get to her. She would not go without a fight._ Do you even have any fight left in you?_ a bitter voice in the corner of her mind sounded. _You did everything for them. Risked your life. Obliviated your parents. Lost your innocence. And what do you get back? A dead Boy Who Lived and a broken leg. Maybe you should just give up. Surrender. They would kill you, sure, but it would be better than living in this hellhole._

She tried to ignore the voice though. Tried to ignore the familiar face of the second year's dead body she had just stumbled over. The second year who had smiled sheepishly at her and reassured her they would get through this. The blush of a naïve schoolboy crush lingering on his cheeks as he had hugged her. She tried to ignore the terrible memories. Tried to stop the vivid red of the dried blood between lifeless Ginny's thighs flashing through her mind. Tried to ignore Neville's whimpers and screams as they tortured him, cursing him with the same fate as his parents.

When she finally reached her destination, she almost started sobbing in relief. She checked to make sure nothing was near her but the many corpses riddled across the floor and the eerie silence of defeat, and then thought of what she wanted most.

_Take me somewhere safe, somewhere they'll never find me. _

She let out a shuddery breath and clenched her eyes tighter.

_Take me somewhere safe, somewhere they'll never find me. _

She bit her lip until she tasted blood.

_Take me somewhere safe, somewhere they'll never find me._

She opened her eyes and felt the tears rushing down her cheeks at the sight of the door. Ignoring her obviously broken leg for a moment, she ran to the door, yanked it open, leaped inside, and slammed it close again. Making sure not only to lock it manually but to also use multiple spells that would ensure no one could get in. Only then did she take the time to look at what the room had given her.

On the far right wall was a delightful looking four poster bed. On the far left a large bookshelf covered in books. On the wall farthest from her was a miniature kitchen, complete with oven and refrigerator. This was too good to be true.

She didn't even care if the refrigerator was stocked or not. She limped to the bed, pulled the covers down, snuggled in, and pulled the covers back up. Then, snuggled into her new bed, she allowed the harsh, horrifying memories to overwhelm her.

**LOLLY LOLLY LOLLY GET YOUR ADVERBS HERE**

Something wasn't right. She struggled to come to terms with what exactly wasn't right, but something wasn't right. She had woken up the next day in the Room of Requirements, where she had gone to sleep the night before, but something was… off. When she had gone to sleep in that bed mourning the loss of all of her loved ones and herself, there had been a weight on the world. The air had felt heavy and dark. Now, that morning, she felt as though she had just woken up on any normal day at Hogwarts. There wasn't that recurring undertone of danger. For the first time in a very, very long time, she felt… she felt safe.

That all ended though when she opened her eyes and remembered all of the details of her situation. She would never be safe, of course. She could never leave this room. Not for a very long time. She got up and limped around the room, trying to see if there was anything that could she could use to set her leg before it started healing the wrong way. She could have just conjured something up, or done it the magical way, but all of her energy was drained and she highly doubted she would be able to cast a simple Confundus charm on someone.

She glanced around the room, gaze landing on the small kitchenette. She realized how hungry she was. She honestly couldn't remember the last time she ate. She limped her way over, wincing every once in a while. When she got there, she opened the refrigerator, taking in it's contents. She picked up an apple (it was the easiest to prepare. Just rinse and then put in mouth.), and gobbled it down.

By the time she was done. Her leg was throbbing with pain. She thought about risking going outside to scavenge for supplies. She figured she could peek outside and see what it looked like. If it was bad, she could slip back inside. _Where's your Gryffindor courage?_ she thought to herself as she slowly advanced on the door. It was supposed to be encouraging to her, to pump her up. Instead it just sounded bitter, cold, and even somewhat mocking. She laughed dryly. She drew her wand, and pulled open the door silently. She peered out into the hallway, and was surprised to see that there was no damage on the walls and no dead bodies lying on the floor. _What the…?_ She thought to herself. What the bloody hell was going on?

No one was around, so she figured she should try it. She stumbled out, and cursed when her injured leg hit against the door frame. "… Can I help you, miss?" Her eyes widened and she looked up. She had been caught. She ignored the fact that the death eater hadn't just cursed her on the spot. The only person it could be was a death eater.

But when she looked up, she saw someone entirely different… Well, not really, but different in the way that it shouldn't have been possible. As she gazed into the wide eyes of Tom Riddle, she fainted.

**ROCKIN' AND A ROLLIN' SPLISHIN' AND A SPLASHIN' OVER THE HORIZAN WHAT CAN IT BE**

She groaned. She wasn't sure where she was, but she was lying in a very stiff uncomfortable bed. "Is she awake?" She heard a voice, and peeked an eye open. And then closed her eyes again. It was official. She had gone crazy. She opened her eyes again, coming face to face with a very much alive Albus Dumbledore, except… He looked younger. Even worse was the man sitting next to him. She recognized him as Armando Dippet from the portrait in the Headmaster's office.

"Hello, miss. How are you feeling?" Dumbledore asked gently.

"Pr… Professor Dumbledore?" She asked, alarmed.

"…Yes, I am him." She looked around her. Surrounding her was a woman wearing what appeared to be the same outfit Madame Pomfrey wore, the man who looked exactly like Armando Dippet, a younger (alive) Albus Dumbledore, and… Tom Riddle. If she hadn't been killed the night before and this WASN'T some odd death induced stupor, then she most definitely needed to get away from ¾ of her company.

"Can I… can I speak to you alone? … I'm sure you remember the letter you received from… Miriam Dursley. I am the… niece she talked about in it. Hermione Dursley. I seem to have gotten lost on my way to your office." She struggled to come up with the lie, and then remember that when she had been found, she had been covered in blood, her clothes had been torn the point that she was barely decent, and she had had a broken leg. "I will explain the… condition I was in when I speak to you privately. It will all make sense then."

There was a brief moment in which Dumbledore looked very surprised, but he maintained control and said, "Oh, yes! Of course! I had completely forgotten about dear Miriam! She even said that you would be arriving today. How silly of me." He turned to Dippet and, at his confused look, said, "I told you about Miriam Dursley, yes?"

Dippet nodded and said, "Surely, you did. It must have just slipped my conscience." He turned to Riddle. "Right! Well, Tom, it appears we should leave miss Dursley and Albus alone so they can sort everything out!" Had Voldemort himself not been there with a suspicious look clouding his eyes, Hermione might have laughed at how gullible Dippet was. _Well_, she thought to herself._ There really is no explanation as to how he would let the darkest wizard of all time go through seven years of schooling at Hogwarts._

Dippet and Riddle left (the mediwitch having wandered off some while earlier), leaving Dumbledore and Hermione to themselves. Dumbledore turned to her, the previous twinkle in his eyes long gone, and said, "Explain everything."

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><p><strong>Hi! This is my first story! W00T!<strong>

**Not the most original idea, but still... Please review! Fank joo!**

**Oh, and no, nothing here belongs to me but the plot and any OC's that might appear in the future. KTHXBAI.  
><strong>


	2. Explanations

"_Explain everything._"

Hermione looked at him, and for a second wondered if she had made the wrong decision. What if she screwed something up? What if, by telling him, she messed up the timeline? _Screw the timeline_, a small voice sounded in the back of her head. _What could be worse than what the future is now?_ She sighed. "I'm not from… around here."

"Well, that's obvious. Where are you from, Miss…?"

"Granger. Hermione Granger… I'm from… 1998." Her voice was barely above a whisper. Part of her hoped he hadn't heard her. The way his eyes slowly widened said otherwise.

"That's… peculiar." If it were under any other circumstances, Hermione would have laughed at the look on her old headmaster's face. He looked so shocked. She had never seen that look on his face. He had never looked so surprised, not even after finding everything that She, Harry, and Ron had gotten up to in her six years at Hogwarts.

"Yes. Well, the thing is, the future isn't what you might think it is. For one, there's-WAS a war going on. The worst war the wizarding world has ever seen. There's a dark wizard… Voldemort," she struggled with saying his name, as she was used to it being tabooed. "He… he hates… mudbloods. He believes they shouldn't be allowed to do magic." Dumbledore was sitting quietly, taking it all in.

"There was this prophecy that said a baby, born to those who have defied him, and born at the end of July, would be the one who defeated him. There were two babies who parents were members of the resistance and were born at the end of July, Harry and Neville. Voldemort killed Harry's parents and had Neville's parents tortured into insanity. As it turns out, my best friend Harry was the one in the prophecy…" She went on to describe everything that happened during their years at Hogwarts, and then their search for the horcruxes.

"But something went wrong. Harry was supposed to get the elder wand when we went to back to Hogwarts, but… he didn't. He refused to use dark curses, too, so really he had no chance. Voldemort killed him the moment he saw him. I went into hiding, because the death eaters had put wards around the castle so no one could escape. They planned on killing everyone.

"But they found me. They took me to Voldemort. He had a special interest in me because I wasn't only muggle born, but I was one of the "Golden Trio". I was Harry's best friend through all of it. He forced me to… watch them _rape _and _torture _all of my friends. Then he tortured me. He held me under the cruciatus for days. When he finally got bored… he… let his followers have a go at me. I somehow managed to escape, but… one of them broke my leg." She shuddered at the memory. She tried not to cry, but it was difficult. Eventually, she couldn't hold it in any longer.

Dumbledore watched as she cried. He wanted to comfort this girl, but he wasn't sure how. And he still had one question. "How did you get here?" he asked quietly.

" I asked the room of requirement to hide me after I escaped. It gave me this large room with a very comfortable bed, and I fell asleep. When I woke up, I was… here." She bit her lip, worried that he wouldn't believe her. "Please, sir, you must believe me. Everything I say is true!" She wracked her brain for evidence, and finally came up with something. Pulling back her sleeve, she showed him the word carved into her flesh. Flesh that would never be rid of the hurtful scar Bellatrix had given her that had branded her as the most hated thing in the wizarding world. A mudblood.

"One of the death eaters carved this into my arm when we were captured."

Dumbledore's face filled with pity and grief, and all he wanted to do was comfort this poor soul. "I believe you, my dear girl," he said. "It's just… I have never heard of a case like yours. No one can know of this. You might have already changed the future by just telling me. We will elaborate on your cover story later. For now, I would think you might like something to eat?" At the mention of food, she nodded her head. She was quite hungry actually. He broke the silencing ward around the cot and called for the Madame Pomfrey of the forties, Madame Beatty. She brought Hermione some soup, and they sat in silence as she ate. "May I ask how you came up with a cover story so quickly?" he asked, eyes twinkling.

"I've had practice with lying. When you're on the run and among the three most wanted criminals in the wizarding world, you learn how to come up with aliases fast." He nodded, but said nothing else, allowing her to eat in silence. Once she was finished, they resumed their conversation.

"You said you were a Dursley in front of Tom and Armando. Now, Dursley is not a wizarding surname, but you also said that your aunt sent my a letter. I believe it's safe to assume that you are a half blood?" She almost corrected him, but stopped herself when she remembered that he knew she was muggle born. They were talking about an alias. Instead, she nodded, allowing him to continue. "You do not speak with any sort of accent, so we will say you were tutored privately by your mother. The reason for the letter was because your parents were murdered by a muggle, and your aunt did not know how to continue your studies herself, so she was seeing if you could attend Hogwarts for your last year of school. Do you have any questions?"

"Yes, actually, sir. Um, what do I say if asked about my condition when I arrived, and how I seemingly appeared out of no where?"

"Tell anyone who asks that that is very private information that no one can know but you and myself." She didn't question the fact that his working on her alias meant that she would, in fact, be staying here in the 40's. She simply nodded, memorizing her story. She would ask him about ways to go back to her own time later.

Dumbledore left, allowing her to get some rest. Only after the curtains around her too stiff bed were closed did she realize how exactly tired she was. As she laid back, trying to find a comfortable position, she briefly wondered if maybe, _maybe_, she didn't want to go back her time. A time filled with death and pain. A time where she would be instantly executed if she didn't go into hiding.

After all, who would want to go back when given a second chance?

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><p><strong>Second chapter, you guys! Yay! :D I've gotten a lot of really good feedback-much more than I had ever hoped for, to say the least-and I want to thank you all! I hope this chapter didn't disappoint, and the story still holds interest!<strong>

**DISCLAIMER: In no way, shape, or form do I own Harry Potter. I do not own any of these characters (Except for the few random OC students who play a small part in the story), and all of my credit goes to the amazing Jo Rowling for creating such a wonderful world!**


	3. So We Meet Again

A few days later, when Madame Beatty allowed her to get out of bed, she made her way straight to the headmaster's office. Then she remembered that Dumbledore was not, in fact, headmaster during this time. She turned around to go to the Transfiguration room, and she ran straight into someone. Hermione wasn't quite sure who this someone was, but he (the body quite obviously belonged to a male) was well built and very, very tall. Cold, long fingers wrapped around her bare arm and gently pushed her away. Her ears flushed dark red in color as she realized that the man she had so gracefully walked into was the Dark Lord himself.

"S-sorry…" She stuttered more out of fear than anything else (after all, this was the person who tortured her for days straight and then allowed his disgusting, dirty death eaters to have a go at her, obviously not caring if she was raped or even killed), but to any onlookers it would appear as though she was blushing and stuttering because if his rather handsome appearance. That was, after all, what the whole of the female Hogwarts population did around him. Blush and stutter.

He smiled an award winning smirk, and said, "No, no, it was my fault. I obviously wasn't paying attention." Hermione found herself gazing into his dark eyes, and vaguely thought that if she didn't know what he would do, what would become, she might even think he was a tad bit handsome… No. This was Lord Bloody Voldemort. The man-not man, monster. The MONSTER that ruined her life. Somewhere deep inside her brain it registered that sometime in his life he would go on to learn Legilimency, and for all she knew, he was already a master in the art. She immediately diverted her gaze, glad that she herself was an accomplished Occlumens, and therefore managed to keep up a ward at all times.

"I couldn't help but notice that you seemed a little lost?" He inquired, and pulled that charming smile again. She wanted to narrow her eyes and give him a piece of her mind, but she knew that he was not stupid. He probably already had his suspicions about her cover story, and she didn't need to behave any more weirdly than she already had. She was, after all, supposed to be playing the role of the new, random kid who has never been in Hogwarts her whole life, and it WAS a rather large castle.

She widened her brown eyes a tad bit, trying to appear thankful and innocent. "Oh, yes! I was, actually! I was looking for Professor Dumbledore." She flashed a smile of her own. _Not nearly as attractive, though, _she thought wryly. She imagined she probably looked much like a night troll, what with her insanely bushy hair (which hadn't been combed in a very, very long time) and the fact that she more likely than not covered in dirt. She couldn't remember the last time she had had a proper shower, and she was quite sure the slight odor seemingly following her every move was proof of that.

His eyes narrowed an eighth of a millimeter, but Hermione caught it. She knew very well of his dislike for the Transfiguration professor. He recovered quickly, and smiled yet again. "Why of course! If you would just follow me, I'm sure I can figure something out." She thought she heard a double meaning in his words, but she shook it off. He held his arm out for her, but she ignored it, opting to tell him to lead the way. She wanted so badly to tell him to stop with the act, she knew what he was really like. She managed to keep herself from doing it, though.

They walked in silence for a while. Unfortunately, Riddle felt the need to interrupt the silence. "So, why did you want to see Dumbledore?"

"To, uh, discuss my transfer."

He peered at her from the side. "Oh? You're transferring?"

"Yes… My, ah, my aunt wanted my last year to be spent at Hogwarts."

"Where did you go before?"

"I was, um, privately tutored…" She trailed off, hoping he would get the hint that she did not feel like speaking to and shut up. He didn't.

"Should you be speaking to Headmaster Dippet?" He asked suddenly.

"Excuse me?"

"Headmaster Dippet. It seems, as he IS the headmaster, you would be going to him about the transfer…?"

"Yes, well… My aunt knew Dumbledore personally, and wished for him to handle the transfer," she remembered hearing Harry talk about how Dippet was a loud, foolish man. Foolish enough to allow a future Dark Lord to reside in his school for seven years, and added, "She also knew of Dippet. She thought him very foolish, and did not wish for him to handle something of such importance."

"Your aunt seems like a very outspoken woman," he remarked. She remembered that she was in the forties and not the nineties. Woman were still considered useful for only two things. Birthing heirs and housekeeping.

"She… she is. She is a firm believer in women's rights. As am I." Riddle raised his eyebrows. Hermione briefly wondered how he managed to make such a juvenile act so attractive, but quickly banished the thought from her head. She was to avoid him at all costs-especially if she had to stay here forever. She could not go around thinking he was attractive. They stopped.

"Well, I believe we are here, Miss Dursley." Her eyes widened.

"How do you know that name?" She asked, fear overtaking her. Had he managed to get inside her mind? What had he seen?

A strange look appeared on his face as he tilted his head slightly, saying, "I was there in the infirmary when you mentioned the letter your aunt sent and your last name. Remember?" She sighed in relief, but quit breathing again when she realized what she might have just done. She knew he had been suspicious. He hid it well, but she knew. Had she just blown her cover completely? He was smart. It was very likely that he would put two and two together. She had just let her resolve break and she had shown her fear of him. She had admitted that for some reason he shouldn't know that name. She could have just ordered her own death sentence.

"Oh, um, yes. Sorry," she laughed shakily. "I must have still been very tired when that happened I apologize."

"Right…" She could tell he wanted to ask more questions, so she spoke before he could.

"I should, uh, I should go talk to Professor Dumbledore now!"

"Oh, yes, Dumbledore…" He narrowed his eyes considerably at the mention of Hermione's old headmaster, and then turned around, walking swiftly down the hall without saying goodbye. Hermione sighed, and knocked lightly on Dumbledore's door.

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><p><strong>Chapter three is UP. YEAH. They seem to be getting progressively smaller, and this worries me. I'm trying to set myself a word goal for each chapter, but it's difficult because sometimes there's that one spot in the chapter where you just feel like you should end the chapter. I know how frustrating it is, though, when you read the last chapter of a story that's in progress and it's incredibly short.<strong>

**WARNING. SHAMELESS ADVERTISING AHEAD. IF YOU DON'T WANT TO READ ABOUT ME REVISING THE TERRIBLE FANFICTION MY IMMORTAL (first two chapters already up!) THEN DON'T READ THE REST OF THE NOTE.  
>...So, yeah. I decided to try to revise My Immortal as a challenge to my sanity. It's very, very difficult. I keep having to take breaks because I'm getting the worst headaches. If you want to try to read what I have so far, it's up in my profile. I've done a lot of fixing, and gotten rid of her obnoxious Author's Notes, but there's still a high chance you might get a bad headache. It's hard to fix such crap. Very hard.<br>**


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